


The Holiday Tales: An Elf Revolution

by Starmoji



Series: The Holiday Tales [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Based on a roleplay, Decapitation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starmoji/pseuds/Starmoji
Summary: Not everything is as it seems. One second, a lovable Christmas icon could be bringing gifts and joy to children across the globe. The other second, he could be beating a defenseless elf to its grave. But what goes around comes back around, and these elves have had enough of the abuse! It's high-time for a revolution, don'tcha think?This ain't your usual Christmas story.
Series: The Holiday Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108847
Kudos: 1





	The Holiday Tales: An Elf Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> This is the official novelization of a roleplay done on my school's discord server. Certain names have been changed to protect our identities. I hope you enjoy this crazy story, thank you.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Cell Block Tango - Chicago

“Get to moving, ya bums,” was a common phrase uttered among the elves. It was so common; one could even say it was a regional greeting in the North Pole.  
“I said move it, you flimsy sacks of reindeer shit!” And there it goes again, yet another common yet colorful phrase amongst the big man’s helpers.  
“Language!”  
“Oh, shut up you old nut, and don’tcha have bigger problems to deal with? I mean, you’re getting rather old, aren’t you? Soon the big man won’t need you.” Ah yes, I was wondering when someone’d point that out. The big man, the head honcho, the one everyone knows and loves… Mr. Santa Claus!

“Ho, ho, ho, is there a problem here,” asked the Christmas King himself in a jolly tone. “We wouldn’t want there to be any issues, right?”  
“N-no sir,” shakily responds the rude elf. “There’s no problems here boss.”  
“Good,” says the typically jolly man in an unusually ominous tone. “It would be a shame if I had to… handle this situation myself.” And just like that, his cheery exterior returned, and he made his way back up the stairway to his office.

You see blissful children; Santa Claus isn’t so nice once you’ve worked with him for a while. He appears a happy old man, but he’s harder than an escaped convict. However, despite the hardships, the tinker elves are forced to keep slaving away day in and day out, with barely any pay at all. The mercenary elves, who are worker elves trained in handling Santa’s business partners when they step out of line, often filled the infirmaries. The reindeers constantly require medical attention for bloody hoofs and cuts from lashes. And even the snow itself was exhausted, having to provide transportation for over three million creatures every day and every night. Needless to say, no one was safe from the abuse.  
“Snow, come here,” shouted the red menace in a bolstering voice. Whenever he yelled at that decibel level, it was never a good sign. Quickly, as if on command, a slight breeze flew in from the office window with chucks of snow flurrying around. With a magical display, the snow quickly molded itself into the form of a sixteen-year-old girl in a tattered white dress.  
“Yes sir,” uttered a bored reply from the girl’s lips. Her honey-like skin, brownie-colored hair, and chocolate eyes clashed with the ripped and dirtied long-sleeved, simple white dress. Her posture was far from perfect as she limped on one leg, leaned against the wall as if it were her life-support, and had a layer of ice over her left eye (think an eye patch for healing eyes). The poor winter-type spirit had been pushed to her limits all day and had lacked any care for whatever the hell her boss wanted.  
“I need an announcement to be sent out to all elves immediately, some new workspace regulations must be instated.” Wordlessly, without a facial of disgust, the spirit waited for her boss to speak. “We need to increase production this holiday season, all elves must be on overtime. Cut the five-minute breaks entirely and set the new bedtime to 12:00 AM to 5:00 AM.” Hearing the new hours, Snow visibly cringed.  
“Sir, with all due respect, you can’t expect us to run on five hours of sleep. We barely get the recommended eight hours, and all the extra crunch will only slow us-”  
“I don’t pay you to complain, do I?” The sudden malicious tone in his voice felt more poisonous than a snake’s venom. “Now, you are going to do as I say, or else that icy eye will be getting a buddy.” After a moment of silence, she left dejectedly.

A chorus of groans and complaints filled the assembly room as Snow announced the incoming changes. Feeling an uproar arriving, she flurried away, knowing nothing good comes from angry elves. Making her way outside, she came across her boss’ office and wanting to get some vengeance, she snuck in. Inside, the big man was on the phone with his trained mercenaries, however, the conversation wasn’t on collecting the debt from store owners or the hottest gifts this year. No, it was something… reprehensible. Something repulsive, something that warrants reprimands. And Snow, having been mortified, rushed to the nearest elves she could find.  
With most having gone to their cabins to get ready for the hell that was tomorrow, there was a small group near their cabin. One was a mercenary elf named Egg, and the other five tinker elves named Buttercup, Shell, Messy, Phrog, and Marshmallow. Analyzing the group and determining they could be no threat (at least towards her), she toughened up and molded herself in front of them. And all of them, save for Marshmallow, flinched at her sudden appearance.  
“Who are you?”  
“An ally, the name’s Snow.”  
“Snow? As in the transportation department head Snow? Santa’s little buddy,” Marshmallow asked with each new question having a bonus of venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you are no ally to us!”  
“…Are you blind? Can’t you see the tattered dress, the patched eye, and the obvious bruises on me?! Santa treats me no better than you! Honestly, I’d wager he treats me worse! You don’t know what happens beyond closed doors.” After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Snow continued. “Look, I came here asking for help. It’s something… big.”  
“What is it,” asked Buttercup.  
“I need help killing Santa Claus.”

After the shock wore off, Snow broke the news to them. Their boss, who already didn’t have the best reputation, was also a pedophile. Overhearing his conversation with his mercenaries, it was revealed that he hired them to spy on the children that sleep at night and was planning something malicious on Christmas night. The group required a minute to soak in all the added information.  
“So, our boss, who is the idol of billions of children, is their biggest threat?”  
“Oui monsieur Phrog, et c’est un imbécile s’il pense qu’il peut s’en tirer comme ça!”  
“…Et what?”  
“Sorry, I’m currently managing the travel roads to Paris. I said, ‘He is an imbecile if he thinks he can get away with it.’ Now… are you in?”  
“Well, in all honesty, that sounds unbelievable and insane. But if what you’re saying is true, then what’s the plan?”  
Nodding with a smirk gracing her features, Snow opened a map of the village and the workshop and explained her great plan.

“In all honesty, I don’t know if this is even gonna work, Stink.”  
“What did you just call her,” asked Buttercup with a weirded-out expression.  
“Stink.”  
“…Call me Stink again and see what happens,” replied Snow with a serious undertone, already sharpening her icicles.  
“Save your energy for later. I can hear his footsteps coming.” And quicker than the speed of light, the room became silent. The footfalls of the despised being filled the quiet, and his large figure entered through the doorway. As soon as he went to flick the lights, Egg and Buttercup swung from the wooden bars on the ceiling and pulled out their knives. Santa stood in shock as his head was messily chopped off. A vivid display of vibrant red amongst a tense scene painted the room, and amid it all, a large looming body of gloomy fell.

The monster had been defeated.

“I can’t believe Messy and Phrog’s letter worked.”  
“Now all that’s left is to get rid of the body,” replied Snow with a smug look on her face.  
And as the team all shared a collective sigh of relief, a voice arose from the doorway.

“What the hell?!”


End file.
